Clandestine Affairs
by Clarenova
Summary: The prequel to the prequel, Clandestine Affairs is the third in the What Really Counts series. Who *was* Clandestine in the first place? The story throws light on the screaming that went on in the dark.
1. Silent Screams

::Prologue:: 

Disclaimer: MINEEEEEE! Well, except the Redwall concept and Salamandastron. 

A/N: Before and After: A prologue to Clandestine Affairs: A (pre)sequel to the fic "What Really Counts". Yeah, I'm back, so live with it! This is a prequel. For those too lazy to read TYATO (Yes, this is PRE TYATO), Clandestine is Dale's sister, though she does not know it at this point in time. Squee. *nodes sagely* 

* 

A/N: Wow. Nearly two years after my first post on this board (TYATO), more than one after my second fic, also first posted here (WRC), comes my third Redwall fanfiction: Clandestine Affairs, to be, guess what, also posted on the RFF. At first, I wanted to post it on Fanfiction.Net, but I realized that would be breaking a fine tradition. *grin* Go ahead. Read it. I know you don't want to, but you have to anyway. 

* 

Fluttering in the wind. Nothingness screamed at me. Fluttering in the night air. Everything screamed at me. Fluttering in planes of though. I screamed at myself. 

_Never. Never ever._

I can hear the distraught, the madness, the fear. Always flutttering in the wind. The crash of air upon air, plane upon plane, thought upon thought and existence upon existence. 

_Never ever. Never ever about._

Can you hear me, I scream. Nobeast will hear me. Nobeast will know. Nobeast realized - save one. Who will realize? Who will see all that drifts upon the wind? 

I would have never known, save for the fact that he left a note upon my desk. 

What it said, I will never forget. 

_Not about war. Not about the blood. Not about death. Not about the War. Never about the war. Never about everybeast else. Never, I can see it, hear it. Hear you. But still, it is so, never. Never ever._

Who can hear me screaming in the dark when I have no courage to voice it? 

* 

'Clande?' 

Major Clandestine, head of the 22nd Mossflower Patrol, looked up from her desk, peering at the door, where she spotted Rapieratce. The captain had his head half poked through the gap in her door. Odd, she thought, I never heard him open the door. Rapieratce pushed the slightly ajar door open and slid in. 

'What is it, 'Atce?' 

Rapieratce shrugged. 

'The colonel wants to see you.' 

Clandestine groaned. 

'It's not about the patrol again, is it?' 

Rapieratce shrugged expressively again, rolling his eyes. The captain cocked his head to the door. 

'Let's just say he isn't too bally happy that your patrol is still missing two members after so long.' 

Clandestine whined slightly, placing the parchment she had absently been holding in her paw down. 

'I don't _need_ another two hares! My patrol does well enough as it is.' 

For the third time, Rapieratce shrugged. 

'Tell Galde that. Come on, before he blows his top. Spring is never a good time for him.' 

Clandestine sighed in defeat and lugged herself up from her desk, squinting slightly as the sunlight from her window fell upon her eyes. Tugging slightly at a wrinkle in her jacket, the major gave her friend a slight, playful shove on the shoulder, pushing him out of her room and plodding after him, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

_But nobeast can hear you screaming in the dark..._   
  



	2. Silent Thoughts

::Words:: 

Disclaimer: Glorrrrfy! 

A/N: Well, here it is: The first official chapter of Clandestine Affairs! Oh joy and misery... I've discovered that WRC was the longest running fic with the highest review count for a non-humour fic in this section. I feel so honoured. Thanks, guys. =) 

* 

Clandestine heaved a sigh and walked into Galde's study, where the colonel sat, chair tipped slightly back with a bland expression written over his face, paw absently twirling a broken quill. Looking up at the younger major, the colonel tilted his head to the side, motioning for her to sit. Clandestine, recalling all the lectures she had been given by the elderly colonel (before _and_ after becoming an officer at that) and braced herself. Galde managed to pull off a singularly amused look while still remaining generally impassive. Sighing, he tipped his chair back up, and sitting properly, dug into one of his drawers and removed a file. Discarding the useless quill in favour for a working one, the colonel flipped open his records. Tapping a page, he literally threw the papers at the major, who, smiling wryly, caught them. 

22nd Mossflower Patrol, missing 2 members from a complete Foot and Fur official patrol (following corrected guidelines as of season 3 of year 18 of the FaF council agreement), grinned back up at her. Galde sighed. 

'Clande, will you _please_ go and get another two bally hares? Mianent and Beutrill are absoballylutely going off their rockers trying to get rid of the older Greenings who _are not_ Greenings any longer, and _your_ patrol happens to be the most open to them.' 

Clandestine looked fairly frustrated, having gone over the conversation more times than one with her old mentor. 

'Galde, sah, my patrol has been fully functional and doing perfectly _fine_ for the past four seasons already. I do not-' 

Galde only needed to glare at her with a jaundiced eye before Clandestine balefully shut herself up. The two were about to engage themselves in a staring competition when a chuckle sounded from the doorway. Twisting around in her chair to get a better look, Clandestine came face to face with a fairly amused Rapieratce, who was leaning nonchalantly against the sturdy door frame, green eyes twinkling in mirth over the familiar scene before him. Galde cast a frosty, affronted glance at his protégé and foster son. 

'What do you want, 'Atce?' 

Rapieratce threw his arms into the air, feigning surrender. 

'All I wanted was to get an extra ink bottle, sah! Although I am finding this most funny.' 

Clandestine glared at Rapieratce, who only grinned impishly back at her. Galde, scowling, pushed a full bottle of inky liquid across his table towards Rapieratce. 

'Take it and go, 'Atce.' 

Smirking, Rapieratce smoothly walked over to the table, dipping down low enough to mutter a "good luck" into the ear of his compatriot and friend before laughing lightly and exiting, closing the door behind him with the ink bottle in paw. A moment later, Galde cleared his throat and Clandestine turned her attention back towards him. 

'Clande, I've been fairly lenient with you and your patrol for a while now. But by Mossflower, will you just take two before I go and assign them forcefully to you?' 

Galde none too gently brandished a name list in front of Clandestine. The ominous stack of paper rustled. Reluctantly, the major flipped through the thick listing, critically scanning the pages before slowly coming to a conclusion, paw lingering over a name in the list. 

'I suppose we could make room for Twitch. He is, after all, Furgale's younger brother and all...' 

Galde looked expectantly at the major, drumming his fingers on the desk impatiently, head tilted to the side. Clandestine looked down the list again and shrugged a few moments later. She placed the stack back onto the table, innocently glancing up at Galde, who now looked just about ready to kill her. 

'I can't seem to find any others, sah.' 

Galde all but slumped into his chair, rolling his eyes. 

'You test my patience, Clande. Ah, get you gone before you grey my fur any further.' 

Grinning, Clandestine made a flourishing, over exaggerated and definitely overly eloquent bow before leaving the study, earning her another glare from her exasperated senior, who just threw his paws up in defeat. 

* 

Rapieratce worked efficiently, diligently copying the text that Galde had set down for him earlier that day onto a new piece of parchment. The older volumes in the library were in need for recopying, and seeing that his student had nothing better to do that season but laze around, Galde had happily thrust the assignment into Rapieratce's weary, and now ink stained, paws. For the past four weeks the captain had been slaving non-stop to copy the four thick, leather bound histories that lay on his desk. Stacks upon stacks of parchment lay on his table, empty ink wells and broken quill nibs littering the usually neat area. 

The hour was already late, and Rapieratce swore the words were beginning to jump about as he swayed back and forth slightly, trying his best to concentrate and get more work done. The candle flame guttered viciously as it came into contact with wax, and Rapieratce shook his head to bring him back to awareness. The beeswax had almost burnt down, and the flame was perilously close to going out. Carefully placing his work down, cautiously avoiding smudging the new ink, the hare captain struck flint and tinder again as he groped for a new candle. 

Perfect. He did not have any. Cursing his lack of foresight, Rapieratce blew out the old candle, plunging his room into semi-darkness save for the two sticks that flickered next to his bed. Slipping silently out, he padded through the almost empty halls and headed to the storerooms. 

Winding stone corridors steadily lead him down to the kitchens, which were directly next to the stores. Slipping in, he was about to grab a cup of leftover cordial when Galde's voice rang out from the shadows, almost causing him to drop the stone pitcher in surprise. 

'Up late, 'Atce?' 

The captain's head shot up, instinctively veering his body to the sound of the voice. Galde sat, casually sipping on a mug of hot chocolate, in a corner of the kitchen, a pile of work next to him. Rapieratce's body relaxed, and he shrugged. 

'My candles have gone out.' 

Galde waved his mug in silent dismissal. Rapieratce hurriedly grabbed some of the long candles from the store and went back into the kitchen, filling a cup with the clear cordial. Taking a sip, he sank gracefully into a chair, watching his mentor through half lidded eyes. Galde only raised an eyebrow in response. It was not unusual to find the colonel staking out the kitchens to do work every once in a while; the homely, cosy atmosphere differed greatly from the normal stark contrast of the offices and libraries. The quite, warm solace of the kitchens was always a welcome strain away from the more officious nature of the upper levels in which the officers resided. Galde sighed softly, absently flicking a nib. 

'I worry about Clandestine.' 

Rapieratce decided that he needed a stronger drink that eve. Drowning the glass of cordial, the hare poured himself a small amount of strong wine. He took a sip, savouring the bittersweet taste. Looking up, he saw Galde staring wryly at him, expecting a response. 

'Don't we all, sah. She has been reclusive of late.' 

'Really.' 

The question was clearly rhetorical. There was no denying it; the spirited major seemed quieter. More detached, almost aloof. Even Glamoren could not explain it. Galde shook his head wordlessly, too slight for even Rapieratce to notice. The silence dragged on comfortably between the two of them. No words needed to be said. Galde knew that Rapieratce had no idea what was going on, and Rapieratce knew that whatever information Galde might possess was at the colonel's whim to dispense. 

Draining his glass, Rapieratce stood, slightly heady from the wine. Nodding to his foster father, he walked out of the room, pondering the change in the personality of one of his closest friends. 

And in her room, Clandestine tossed in troubled sleep, haunted by images and memories of a past that was not hers. 


End file.
